The Lost Library of Cormanthy - Mel Odom [119]
"The temple shouldn't be hard to find," the old ranger said. "Corellon is chief god among the elves. His temple will have been one of the larger structures."
Baylee nodded in agreement. "Ask Junior Civilar Tsald to spread her men out while keeping the perimeter security intact."
Cthulad nodded, without stating the obvious and telling Baylee he could have done that himself.
Baylee guided his mount down into the ruins of the city. He visualized the streets in his mind, building them from the map Innesdav had provided. Less than an hour after he began, he located the well.
Precious little remained of the temple of the elven god. And an immense stone slab covered the well itself. He used rope from the gear they'd brought to rig a crude block and tackle through the nearby trees. Even then, it took a team of horses to lift the slab away.
The well possessed a mouth six feet across. The lip above the ground showed only broken and smashed rock. Brackish water filled the bottom of the well, and the stench gave evidence that it had been salted when the city had been razed.
Calebaan joined Cordyan, Cthulad, and Baylee at the well. "Now it begins in earnest," the watch wizard said, peering into the well's depths.
And Baylee couldn't wait. He pointed up. "Rig another rope from that tree," he said. "I'll need it for support to make the descent. Those who follow me will need it as well."
Cordyan ordered the men into motion.
Retreating from the group, Baylee found a wall of brush to keep his modesty intact. He stripped off the chain mail armor and clothing.
"What are you doing?" Cordyan asked.
"Getting ready to make the descent."
"Unarmored?" The watch civilar stood on the other side of the brush,
watching doubtfully.
"Chain mail is great if you're going into battle," Baylee said. "But not for getting around ruins." He opened his bag of holding and pulled out the leather armor inside. It was a full set of gnomish workman's leather armor, complete with a hood that fit snugly over his head. But this set of gnomish workman's leather armor had been built to fit Baylee precisely, allowing him access to the dozens of pockets and secret areas inside the armor. When he'd traveled with Golsway and found out about the armor that came complete with multitudinous pockets, he'd wanted a set. It had taken nearly a year for him to build a friendship with a party of gnomes who followed the explorer's way themselves. In the end, they'd made him the suit in return for help he'd given them.
He ran his hands over the pockets, knowing the positions of all the lock picks, hammers, chisels, brushes, and other implements he'd found of service while crawling through excavation sites. As he'd donned the armor, his trepidation about descending into the well had waned. He pulled his boots on again, then pulled the leggings of the armor tight. Each device in his pockets was placed carefully enough that it didn't clink or make a sound when he moved.
Finished, he stalled for the well.
"Baylee, I hope your pride and your overconfidence don't get you killed down there," Cordyan said.
"It's not going to," the ranger said. "I'm better than that. This-this is what I live for, Cordyan. And what Golsway lived for, too." But he couldn't deny the
seed of fear twisting in his stomach. He started to walk away, feeling Xuxa's eyes on him as she hung from a tree branch.
Then he turned on his heel and approached Cordyan directly, feeling more afraid of what he was about to do than any thought of descending into the well gave him. Before she could pull away, he put his hand to the back of her head and pulled her to him, kissing her fiercely. He was surprised at how she kissed back. Behind him, men shouted out ribald encouragement.
Then he stepped away and she slapped him. Not as hard, Baylee knew, as she was capable of. But the ribald encouragement became faked groans of sympathy and laughter.
"What was that for?" he asked.
"For making me worry about you," she replied. "And for even daring to think